My Fiancée Chose My Best Friend, So I Married Her Rival

Then someone let out a knowing little laugh. "True enough." "The Hardings have been sinking these past few years. Of course Ernest has to hold on tight to the Hensons." "No wonder he's so on edge." The color drained slowly from my face. After the Harding family fell, it was Cecily who came to me and offered to marry me. She'd said, "Ernest, from now on I'll shield you. No one will dare look down on you again." But now. Her friends, right in front of her, were tearing open the most humiliating wound I had. And Cecily just sat there, watching in silence. All at once I understood. It wasn't that they looked down on me. It was that Cecily was letting them. Roy seemed to finally realize he'd said the wrong thing, and hurried to apologize under his breath. "Ernest, I'm sorry." "That's not what I meant." "I just hate to see you hurting." His voice was soft, yet every word drove a cold spike into my chest. At last Cecily reached out and pulled him behind her. "Enough." The look she gave me was cold in a way I didn't recognize. "Ernest. Apologize." For a second I thought I'd misheard. "What did you say?" She spelled it out, one word at a time. "Apologize to Roy." "He's bent over backwards to spare your feelings. He's already given this much ground." A faint laugh slipped out of me. "Sure." Cecily's expression eased a little. She probably thought I'd finally backed down. But the next second, I lifted my head and looked straight at Roy. "Roy." "Tonight, you keep an eye on her for me." His face went stiff. I turned back to Cecily. "As for the apology." "Let's talk about it after I've signed the marriage license tomorrow." Her brow sank low. "Ernest, what's that supposed to mean?" I gave the room key in my hand a little wave. "Isn't it 'you bet, you lose, you pay'?" "Guess I'd better go find my own room too." With that, I turned and walked out. Behind me, Cecily shot to her feet. "Ernest!" "If you really dare go looking for Marina Gilbert tonight, then forget about signing anything tomorrow." My steps faltered. Something pricked lightly at my chest. But soon there was nothing left but numbness. I looked back and gave her a smile. "Perfect." "I don't much feel like signing it either." As I stepped out of the private room, the laughter swelled up again behind me. Someone deliberately lowered their voice, and still it carried, clear as day, right into my ears. "Cecily, Ernest really needs to fix that temper of his." "Signing the license tomorrow and he's still throwing breakups around to scare people." Cecily's voice came out flat. "Relax. He can't bear to leave me. Everyone knows exactly what shape the Hardings are in right now, don't they?" A burst of laughter. Cecily didn't come after me. I stood at the far end of the hallway, gripping that room key with Marina Gilbert's name on it, and suddenly I remembered a long time ago. Back then, Cecily hadn't been like this. The year the Harding family first fell apart, I went to a dinner party with her for the first time. Someone had deliberately seated me at the very foot of the table. Partway through the meal, one of them said with a smile, "The Hardings are in that kind of state and Ernest can still show his face at a gathering like this. Solid nerves on him." The whole table laughed. I sat there clutching my glass, my face burning. The next second, Cecily set her glass down hard on the table. "Wherever Ernest sits, that's the head of the table." And with that, she got up from the seat of honor and came to sit beside me. That night, she draped her own coat over my shoulders. Blocking out all those appraising stares. Back then I really was moved by the overwhelming way Cecily favored me. I believed she would love me and protect me forever.

Later, I was the one who brought Roy into this circle with my own hands. The first time he walked into that private club on the city's outskirts, his palms were sweating with nerves. He stood behind me and murmured, "Ernest, everyone here seems so impressive." "What if I embarrass you?" I smiled and straightened his tie for him. "What's there to be afraid of?" "You're my brother." "With me here, no one would dare push you around." That suit was one I lent him. That auction was one I brought him to. One by one, I introduced him to every connection I knew. Back then, Cecily had even warned me. "Ernest, people in this circle are cold-hearted." "Don't bring just anyone in." I thought she was worried about me. So I smiled and said, "Roy isn't just anyone." "He's my best friend." She said nothing more. But somewhere along the way, her attitude toward Roy changed. The first time was at the auction. Roy didn't know the rules and raised his paddle by mistake. An antique wristwatch. Three point eight million. His face went white with fright, and for a long moment he couldn't get a word out. I was about to go speak with the organizers on his behalf. But Cecily had already spoken first. "Put it on my account." Roy stared at her, dazed. She handed the paddle to an attendant, her tone offhand. "It's only a few million." "What's there to panic about?" That day, I had my eye on a pair of emerald cufflinks too. Not expensive, but beautiful. Cecily glanced at them and said flatly, "The Harding family is under a lot of scrutiny right now." "It's not a good time for you to draw attention." So I didn't bid. Later that antique wristwatch ended up on Roy's wrist. He posted online: "Made a fool of myself at my first auction. Good thing someone had my back." In the photo, Cecily's watch had made it into the frame. I stared at that picture for a long time. But still I told myself. Cecily was only helping him for my sake. The second time was at a racing outing. Cecily loved racing. Before, the only one who had ever ridden in her passenger seat was me. Then one time, Roy stood beside the car, his eyes bright, and said, "I've never ridden shotgun in a supercar before." Cecily glanced at him, then tossed the car keys to me. "You take the car behind." "I'll take him around a lap." I froze where I stood. But she had already pulled open the door for Roy. Over the roar of the engine, Roy was laughing, happy as could be. That night, he posted online. "First time riding shotgun. My palms were sweating." "Someone told me, don't be scared." Don't be scared. Those words had once belonged only to me. The third time was before the engagement party. I picked out a dark-green suit. But Cecily only gave it one glance. "Too flashy. It doesn't suit you." I looked down at my cuffs, and in the end I changed into the black one she liked. But half a month later, I saw that dark-green suit on Roy. Smiling, he asked Cecily, "Does it look good?" Cecily looked at him, and for a moment there was something dazzled in her eyes. "It suits you." Roy later took a photo and sent it to me, saying, as if in passing, "Ernest, Cecily says this color really makes me look full of life." "You don't mind, do you?" I answered back then that I didn't. But the ache in my chest lasted a long time. Now that I think about it. So this was how a person's place gets given away, bit by bit. First a wristwatch. Then the passenger seat.

Then a suit. And finally, tonight, this room key. I stood at the elevator, and behind me the door to the private room eased open a crack. Roy's voice drifted out. "Cecily, does Ernest hate me now?" "I really only wanted to help him keep an eye on you." Cecily's voice dropped a little. "Don't read too much into it." "He's just spoiled. I spoiled him." A small laugh slipped out of me. She used to say no one would ever dare look down on me. And now. The first person to look down on me was her. The elevator doors opened, and I reached the penthouse suite. Inside there was none of the decadence I'd pictured. Only a single floor lamp burned. Marina Gilbert sat by the floor-to-ceiling window in a long black dress, half a cigarette resting between her fingers. Hearing me, she raised her eyes lazily. Her gaze fell on the room key in my hand. Then on how pale my face had gone. She tugged at the corner of her lips. "Since a marriage of convenience is the same with anyone." "Ernest, why not try the Gilberts?" She stubbed out the cigarette without hurry and lifted her eyes to me. "Whatever the Hensons can give you, I'll double it." "And whatever Cecily won't give you, I'll give that too." Before I could answer, my phone rang. It was Cecily. On the other end there was the sound of running water, and Roy's soft laugh. "Come down here." Her tone took it for granted. "Roy's stomach is bothering him. His medicine's in your bag." I froze. Before we left this afternoon, Roy had said things stuffed in a suit pocket ruined the line of it, and asked me to carry his medicine for him. At the time I'd laughed at how particular he was. Only now did I realize he could turn even feeling unwell into a reason to give me a hard time. I said quietly, "Have a server bring it up." Cecily's voice went cold. "He can't stomach the stuff they'd have out there." "Ernest, don't be so cold-hearted." On the other end, Roy said in a low voice, "Cecily, forget it." "Ernest probably doesn't want to see me right now. I can tough it out." Cecily softened at once. "Don't tough it out." Then, cold again, she said to me, "Five minutes. Bring it to my room." When I reached their suite door with the medicine, it wasn't fully shut. Roy sat on the edge of the bed in a bathrobe, hair dripping, a flush still on his face like he'd just pulled back from something intimate. I handed over the medicine and turned to leave. Cecily walked to Roy's side and passed him a glass of water. "Take your medicine first." The motion was practiced, as if they were the couple who'd been together for years. I stood in the doorway like a spare part, an outsider. The next second, Cecily called after me again. "Wait." She picked up an empty box from the nightstand, her tone even. "Go buy me one from the vending machine downstairs." At first it didn't register. Not until I read the words on the box. Condoms. My whole body went rigid. Roy's face flushed red in an instant, and he ducked his head, murmuring, "Cecily, how can you send Ernest to buy that…" But Cecily saw nothing wrong with it. "He's my fiancé." "He knows my habits better than anyone." When she finished, she looked at me. "Same brand as always. Don't get the wrong one." In that instant, the disgust rose so hard I nearly threw up. "Cecily, do you hear what you're saying?" She frowned. "Ernest, don't twist things again." "It's just a backup." "Roy and I are completely innocent. If there were really anything going on, I wouldn't need to send you for it." Roy nodded quickly too.

“Ernest, don't get the wrong idea.” “Cecily just doesn't want everyone tomorrow making jokes about an empty box.” “A full, unopened one sitting here actually proves nothing happened between us.” Proving her innocence again. They shared one room, to prove her innocence. Now she wanted me to go buy that, also to prove her innocence. Cecily saw that I wasn't moving, and her face went cold. “Ernest, don't make a scene here.” “Roy is already embarrassed enough.” Roy said in a low voice, “Let it go, Cecily.” “Ernest must think I'm shameless.” Cecily's eyes snapped to me at once. “Apologize.” My fingertips curled tighter, one by one. “You want me to apologize to him?” “Yes.” Her voice held not a trace of warmth. “He's your brother, and he only agreed to play this game for your sake.” “Now you humiliate him like this. Shouldn't you apologize?” I looked at Roy. His head was down, his fingers gripping the edge of his bathrobe. But for one instant, the corner of his mouth curved, ever so faintly. Like a smile. All at once, the fight drained out of me. “Fine.” Cecily's expression softened a little. She thought I'd finally backed down. Instead, I turned and walked toward the door. “I'll go buy it.” I stepped into the elevator. The mirrored wall threw back my face. Pale, humiliated, numb. I didn't go to the vending kiosk. I went back up to the penthouse. Marina was still sitting by the floor-to-ceiling window. When she saw me come back empty-handed, she raised an eyebrow. I sat down on the sofa, and a bone-deep exhaustion settled over me. “Marina.” “You said earlier the Gilberts were willing to put up more than the Hensons. Does that still stand?” She looked over at me. “It stands.” I lifted my head, my voice quiet. “Good. Then when do we sign the marriage license?” Ten o'clock the next morning, outside the marriage registry. Cecily and Roy got out of the car, one after the other. A few of the friends from last night had come along too. The moment they saw me standing at the door, they broke into grins. “Ernest, here so early?” “Last night you talked tough, said you didn't want to sign. And here you are, showing up like a good boy.” Roy lightly waved them off. “Don't talk about Ernest like that.” “It's perfectly normal for a man to look forward to signing the license.” He turned to me, his smile gentle. “Ernest, let last night stay in the past.” “From now on, you and Cecily should have a good life together.” “I'll keep my distance, so you won't get the wrong idea.” It sounded so nice. If his hand hadn't still been resting on Cecily's wrist, I might almost have believed him. Cecily reached out a hand toward me. “Ernest, let's go. I told you I'd marry you.” I glanced down at the red booklet in my hand. “Who said I came here to sign with you?” Cecily's face changed. “What are you talking about?” The next second, a black Cullinan pulled up at the curb. The door opened. Marina stepped out and slipped her arm through mine, easy as anything. Then she raised her hand and held up two marriage certificates right in front of Cecily. Red, glaring red. Marina's lips curved. “Miss Henson.” “You're too late.” “Ernest is my husband now.”